Swept Away
by J-J-Sawyer-Phillips
Summary: One-spot based on the song "Make You Feel My Love" (lyrics by Bob Dylan). Set the evening after the return from Neverland. Disclaimer: still trying to get my resume to Adam and Eddy, so I am unaffiliated with the wonderful creators of Once Upon a Time. For now. (: [Unrelated to my longer fic "Never Neverland".]


Emma's far from surprised when a major storm hits Storybrooke not long after they return from Neverland. Granted, the portal wasn't open for very long because they had been ready to sail through it the moment they had rescued Henry; but magic always manages to fuck things up, one way or another. Take time for instance: _they_ only felt like they'd been gone for two weeks, practically a tropical vacation if you didn't factor in all the near death experiences. But for the people they left behind in Maine, and in the Enchanted Forest apparently, more than a year has passed. And aside from the more mundane changes of the seasons and everyone growing older just a bit, some people had managed the miraculous. Recovering from a bullet wound in a place that was positively medieval in terms of medicines, finding a desiccated portal bean pod on some suicidal quest to get back to his family, fighting his way with some allies across the battlefields of the more dangerous Enchanted Forest… Neal had returned to Storybrooke almost six months ago—with Phillip, Aurora, and Mulan in tow—only to learn of Henry's kidnapping and that the rescue mission had left without him.

She sighs when she remembers how absolutely pleasant _that_ "conversation" had been. Having never expected to see him alive again, Emma had been shocked to say the least when he had hugged Henry tightly and then reached for her as well. And then in front of the entire town, he had kissed her. A cheer had gone up at that, confusing her even more until Ruby explained how he had been talking about nothing else since he arrived. Of course she remembers saying those three little words to him right before he fell through. She just never planned on those words truly changing her life in any real, meaningful way. Because she does love Neal, but she doesn't Love him. And his lecture to her about losing Henry—in front of everyone—just confirmed everything she feels about him. Not only did his kiss fail to render her breathless, speechless, or in any way make her anything other than annoyed, but he never even asked permission. He never stopped to notice that her expression had gone angry and then stoic. He didn't even ask her what had happened in Neverland, just looked to Henry for an explanation.

In a way, that makes things easier, because she'll be damned before she lets Neal fucking Cassidy take away even one more of _her_ choices for _her_ life. But it also complicates things. She saw the happy looks on all of her friends' faces, seeing her and Neal and Henry all together as a family. She also saw the smug, calculating satisfaction in the Dark One's eyes, as if daring her to reject the "conquering hero" in front of everyone. It all happened so fast that the thought of ruining the town's brief moment of triumph failed to transform into any sort of action; and now, her inaction and indecision makes her stomach turn. So, despite just getting her son back, Emma lies alone on her bed staring at the ceiling and listening to the rain splash against the roof and windows. All of Storybrooke is down at Granny's celebrating their return and enjoying their reunions. But she pretended that the magical whiplash of holding open the portal had hit her hard; she looked so tired, broken, and defeated at the time that most people had bought it. Except for the three people who knew her best and, perhaps, the two who knew far more than they should.

And as much as she'd needed this time alone to herself, to sort things through in her mind, she knows that she owes someone an apology tonight. She zips up her boots, throws on her trusty red leather jacket, and runs down the stairs out into the night and the rain. She's absolutely drenched in seconds, but she doesn't really care; it's as if magic and nature felt her need, understood her desire to wash away the unexpected events of the day. She can feel her cares sluicing down from her body in those streams of water, _knowing_ that what she's doing is right. She's about half way to the docks when another figure appears out of the darkness, determination and focus apparent in every stride. "Killian."

She whispers his name, and yet he hears over the raging storm, head snapping up at the sound. Both stop, momentarily startled and rooted to the spot at the sight of the other. And then again as one, they move forward; even when they were uncomfortable allies at the top of the beanstalk, they managed to act synchronously. Working together as a team in Neverland had only solidified their ability to adapt to one another, to anticipate the other's move, and use it to both of their advantages. They've beaten every enemy they've ever faced because they fit together so well. They stop when there's about two feet of space left between them. "I didn't really need to rest. I just needed time alone to think."

"I know, lass. Seeing Baelfire again…it was a shock to me, so I imagine it was more so for you." He pauses and tries to swallow down the lump in his throat, tries to push back the threatening tears. The silence becomes too loud, and they both break it at the same time.

"Killian, I-"

"Emma, I… Normally, I'd be a gentleman and let you say what you want first, but please, may I?" She nods, grateful to be able to give him something, even if it is so relatively small. But she's also afraid of what he might be thinking. He takes her left hand in his right, staring down at her fingers.

"When I saw him waiting for us on the docks, love, all my anger and rage and yearning to kill returned with the force of a hurricane. I bloody knew that he'd expect you to run into his open arms, forget the past, and live happily ever after with him. And I wanted to gut him for all the suffering that he put you through. I've rarely been accused of being a fool—I can see that most everyone in this town wants you to be reunited with him. Left to my own devices, I would throw you over my shoulder, kicking and screaming, and sail away with you to keep as my own. And I wouldn't let you free until I had made certain you had fallen in love with me and would never leave.

"But the only thing that matters to me, lass, is what _you_ want. Just say the word, and I will pack up my things and go. If he's the one you want forever, then for you, I can do the noble, the honorable thing and disappear. And I will spend the rest of my days loving you from wherever I am." He's still focused on rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb, so he doesn't see the heartbreak that his words are causing. He doesn't notice the hot tears slicing through the cool raindrops on her face, until he looks her in the eyes.

"And what if that's not what I want, Killian? What if Neal's not the man I'm in love with?" Her voice cracks with all the emotions boiling up inside her, and she finally sees hope dawning in his eyes. He lets go of her hand and brushes her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

"If you aren't in love with him, lass, then I'm staying put. I'll follow you around; I'll bloody haunt you. I won't rest, and I won't stop fighting for you. You once said that I could be a part of something—I want to be a part of _you_, Emma. I want to be as necessary to you as air and light. I want to be in your thoughts, your dreams, your bed… But I also want to be in your heart and soul, because nothing else in this world matters if I don't possess those. I want to be there to fight with you over ridiculous things and to fight by your side when you need me to. I want you sitting next to me as I tell stories to your son and teach him how to really sail. I want to hold a daughter in my arms and be able to tell you that she's as beautiful as her mother is. I want to take care of you, when you'll let me, and know that you'll be there to care for me, when I let you.

"I want to wake up beside you every morning, so that when you open your eyes, I'm the first person you'll see. And the first thing you'll hear is that I love you, and all the ways that I will manage to show you how precious you are to me. Because I swear to you, Emma, that I will never take you for granted; I will never forget just how much I don't deserve you, and that your love is a miraculous gift." He's never felt the loss of his hand more keenly than in this moment, because he is unable to wipe away all the tears from her eyes.

"I think we've had enough fighting to last us several lifetimes, Killian." She reaches for his hand and grasps it tightly in hers. She walks backward a couple of paces, pulling him along and watching his face to make sure that he intends to follow. Emma leads him along the streets of Storybrooke, back to the apartment. She reaches into her pocket to grab her keys, when he gently squeezes her hand. She turns to face him and is immediately surrounded by his arms.

"I know that this may sound a bit out of character and a touch old fashioned, but I need to know that this is what you really want. So, may I kiss you, love?" Emma is surprised at the vulnerability he's showing her and thrilled that he knows her well enough to ask, not just assume and take. She barely manages to whisper the word yes, but it is enough for him to hear, to know that she means it. He pulls her closer into the embrace and brushes his lips across her forehead. She wraps her free arm around his waist, because that gentle touch alone is enough to make her knees weak. Chills, small shivers of pleasure tingle up and down her spine, making her body sway into his and her eyes roll back. It's the sweetest and most innocent first kiss she's ever been given.

There's no chuckle from him, and when she looks at his face there's no typically smug smirk either. His entire focus is on her, on every nuance of her reaction to his kiss, as if he is trying to memorize the moment. Then his gaze becomes hot with longing and sensual promise as he takes the keys out of her hand. "Allow me? I think it's time we got out of the rain, princess." It's her least favorite nickname, but she loves the way it sounds when he says it like that; so she only nods. She's never really been the type to follow, but she enjoys the fact that it's Killian leading her up the stairs.

But by the time they enter the apartment, Emma's had enough of following and going slow. Once she closes the door behind them, she pulls on his arm hard enough to spin him around. She leans back against the door and urges him closer, so that his body can pin her in place. She tilts her head up, offering him her lips, and this time he accepts her invitation. Their kiss tastes of clean rain and tears and each other. Emma slides her hands up his chest and down his arms, his heavily soaked leather coat hitting the floor loudly. He slowly unzips her jacket, his hook following just along the inside of the parting fabric. Emma shivers again and moans at the sensation of the cool metal teasing her skin through her wet shirt. She breaks their kiss, panting for breath. "Please, love. Take me to bed."

It's the first time she's called him that, and it feels almost as wonderful, almost as amazing as the first time he heard her say his real name. His smile is devastatingly beautiful—filled with awe, hope, joy, love. "As you wish, my lady. My Emma love." She laughs when he literally sweeps her off her feet, taking the stairs to her bedroom two at a time.


End file.
